


Lost and Found

by Ald (SinLivesHere)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Human Trafficking, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinLivesHere/pseuds/Ald
Summary: As the Hoshidans attempt to deal with King Garon's menacing scourge upon the realm, they find themselves forced to travel through the streets of Nohr's capital city: Windmire. However, the young diviner Hayato becomes separated from the group and left for dead in the criminal infested streets which are eerily deserted.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Warning: This is one of the darkest things I've ever written, especially towards a character as innocent and undeserving as Hayato. A part of me is pained to make him the center of conflict, but a part of me is also unable to resist subjugating him to such a scenario. I know that this is extremely disturbing for a lot of people in concept and detail. However, all I request is that any issues presented by this work be discussed with me in private. Remember that reading this is a choice, and so is deciding not to read this. I am okay with and respect either decision.

Was it a turn to the left, or to the right? Hayato hadn’t the slightest clue of direction, nor any locational orientation for that matter. Only minutes ago, he was integrated within the travelling pack of Hoshidans, hoping to march on Castle Krakenburg. It seemed that with a few mistaken steps and an exhausted attention span, the young diviner was left to wander the desolate streets, disorientated, solitary, and with a creeping sense of paranoia. The unkept buildings and condemned architecture of the empty streets did little to strengthen his confidence in personal security. Lamplights lined the linear cobblestone paths and walking roads, but their unlit, glow-ridden vestige showed little indication of recent use or attendance. How unfortunate he felt to be left in the ever darkening city, only the yellowed and waning moon. 

The wisest parts of his mind allowed him to fear the possibilities of the darkness; the horrors that could be lurking in the blackest corners and nooks of the alleyways. The most senseless parts agreed that fear was a worthy response, but tempted him to give in and halt his movements and to simply cry in despair. Every step required courage and a skirmish against inner evils, lest he be paralyzed in sheer terror. The shadows cast by the city seemed to exhaust his very will to carry on, and so, he made the conscious decision to rest and regather his thoughts. He snuck into a short cavity that seemed to snake into a deeper alleyway, leaning against the side walls of the alcove, out of sight from any of the main road he had treaded along. He let out a sigh of relief, his breath cold with doubt and worries, but his mind hot and clouded with conflicting emotional dissent.

“I’m not going back out there without some clairvoyance,” Hayato muttered to himself under his breath. His hand slid into his pocket, ruffling the fabric of his shorts with a quiet and frictional sound. He pulled out an assortment of jagged circular beads of dusty and dull fluorescent shades. They clacked lightly as they rolled into the centre of his palm. Hayato’s senses shot up. A sharp click caught his attention in the distance, nearly escaping his notice as the hard sound blended with the percussive collision of his beads. He took a moment to let his heart pound in a galvanized state of adrenaline, punching his chest from the inside at an agonizing pace, his body frozen in a state of shock. A minute passed, but nobody came. 

Hayato’s finger turned over several of the magical beads in his hand, stopping at a faded dark blue bead with an eagle carved into it. He plucked the bead out of his palm, holding it like a grain of rice in a set of chopsticks with his index and thumb. With a shallow inhale, he drew magic from his core, and into the bead as he raised it to his eye. His cloudy grey iris glowed an iridescent green. In a flash of white heat, Hayato was blinded by the magic permeating into his very nerves. When he first developed the technique, it was painful, but with experience and training, he could manage the discomfort by closing his eyes and taking a meditative breath. Such measures were instinctual, and he relieved himself of the growing pain as he calmed himself with an extended exhale.

“That should do the trick.” His tone was more confident as it always was after succeeding in the performance of one of his own techniques. His eyes fluttered open, imbued with second sight and a reassuring enhancement of visual detection. Any relief gained through his clairvoyance spell sunk faster than a weighted coffin in a harbour as he saw less than a metre in front of him. A shadowed figure with glowing yellow eyes. The details of his eyes indicated an intent to do harm. 

Hayato’s reactions were faster than his scream as he cast out his arm at an alarming speed. Raw arcane energy blasted forth from his palm, obliterating the shadow before him with a loud crack. A blade clattered to the ground, and a cloaked man with a tattered hood lay collapsed against the wall. A mere cutpurse by the looks of his appearance. He groaned in sore pain as he writhed on the hard pavement.

“Since when in th’ hell did kids start packing sucha punch?” the brigand asked, unable to bring himself to stand after the blast. “S'posed to be easy pickins, ya know? I keep the sharp end away from ya, and then ya give me some coin. Guess not, eh?” Hayato began to back away slowly from the bandit, stepping deeper into the alleyway a few inches at a time. With a sudden surge, the cutpurse pushed himself back up, and picked up his short dagger. “Lets try this again,” he smiled, taking a step closer to Hayato. It took all but half a second for the diviner to turn away and bolt. He ran deeper into the dark alleyway, further and further away from the cutpurse. With every corner he turned, he began to sprint with increasing pace.

“There’s things worse in there than me,” the robber’s distant voice echoed through the alleyway, caught barely by Hayato’s enchanted senses. He didn’t care enough to process the words, he only ran into the depths of the alleyways, losing himself in the length of the labyrinth. Around one of the many corners, a faint light began to emanate in the distance. He couldn’t tell what kind of light was, nor could he find any details regarding the source, but he headed towards it, running with a second wind in hopes of escaping the horrors of the city. In a single motion, he ran around the corner into the source of the light. Never before had he made such a more regrettable action in his life. 

He fell to the ground, knocked down by his own momentum as he collided with the sheer mass of another human. A stocky figure in brigandish hide armour holding a lantern towered over him, unphased by the hasty collision.

The man reached down, grabbing Hayato by the central fabric of his tunic, lifting him off the ground and dragging him against his will. He planted his feet solidly into the pavement, resisting against the pulling motion, but to no avail. Hayato attempted to focus and blast the agitator with a spell, but the suddenness and clumsy nature of his last cast had left his magic nodes unprepared to function. The extensive sprinting did little to aid his effort in drawing energy for an attack. The man grew annoyed with his resistance, exhaling in an irritated manner.

“Do us both a favor, and quit trying to struggle.” His voice was deep, bare, and threatening, made raspy by years of bad liquor habits and tobacco. From the cloth of his robe to the skin of his legs, the man changed his grip as he wrapped his entire hand around Hayato’s bare calf. The sudden pull tripped Hayato onto the ground as the man pulled him effortlessly like a sack of flour. Sheer surrealism prevented him from screaming out in resistance. Nothing about this seemed like more than a nightmare he had thought impossible to even conceive. Yet, he could not resist being pulled further and further, sliding on the ground unwillingly on his back. The harsh unevenness of the ground dug into Hayato’s back as the friction ground away against his tunic and skin. 

“W-wait,” he managed to stutter as his backside was riddled with the scraping pain. The movement stopped abruptly as his captor looked over his shoulder. “I’ll walk, just let me stand up.” It was a complete surrender and a near death sentence, but Hayato refused to be defeated by the shredding friction of being dragged like a slain corpse. The man grasped Hayato by his wrists, jerking him up onto his feet with violent force. His grip never fully detached at any point, leaving one hand in contact against him at all times. Before an opportunity for escape even came near, a leather and steel shackle bound his wrists together, solidifying his total capture. 

“Try anything and I might have to make things even worse for you,” he warned with a look of deathly intimidation. A thick steel wire rope connected him to the man, keeping a short leash to lead him no less than half a metre behind him. Somehow it was more humiliating than being dragged, even though it was physically less painful. Mentally, it was an agonizing sensation, as it was to a prisoner forced to walk towards his own gallows. In terms of distance, Hayato’s walk of shameful imprisonment was short, but in time it could not have felt longer. The man turned a curved corner to a shallow alcove with decrepit door. He halted in front of it.

“W-what is this?” Hayato gulped, terrified by whatever the answer to his inquiry was. Everything about the place seemed menacing, from the splintering door, the shadowed enclosure of the alley, to the eerie silence.  
“Just lemme do the talking, kid. You’re gonna get us both out of here alive, even if it kills us both.” There was an almost apologetic look on his face as he spoke in his riddled answer. He turned sharply away from him with a hint of shame, knocking on the door thrice. Nothing. A moment of awkward silence cut painfully into both Hayato and his captor. Until the door opened, stirring the pot of true horror that would await.


End file.
